My Second Son
by HopeF0rTomorrow
Summary: "Part of me wanted you to be Cole, all grown up. I don't. Cole is gone, Con. You're Connor, my second son."


I glanced downwards at my watch, it was currently 5:30pm and my balls were about to freeze off. Detroit weather, wouldn't have it any other way. _Where the fuck are you kid? You said quarter past._ I imagined what he was currently doing. Perhaps he was commanding armies of his people. Connor? Nah probably playing with that damned coin while I was turning into a very pissed icicle just outside the Chicken Feed. No, I had Connor's coin. I had forgotten to give it back. What the fuck was taking so long. I retreated to the barely warmer car. To say I nearly shit myself is an understatement. I forgot that since I had 'let' Connor reverse my car into a pole, the radio liked to turn itself on. The kid had apologised over a hundred times.

"Any patrol in the Downtown area please reroute, we have reports of an active shooter who has yet to have been neutralised. We also have reports of at least one injured, although condition is unknown." I put my foot down gently to coax the old wreck to get moving. Chances were Connor was currently playing hero despite the fact of the kid not being a cop. I laughed. The boy had some balls for being a machine and all. I proper could have slapped myself for that, "Connor is not a machine dickwad." Slowly I rolled the car down unused streets. There was no need to snowplow them, no one used them. Once I hit main roads I hit the accelerator.

Pulling up to the scene I received the news that the shooter was now lying in a pool of his own blood. Lucky bastard. If I had of gotten a hold of him… ugh. He was shot which meant it hadn't been Con unless he had got over his hatred of guns. Pulling myself from the car, I retrieved his prized possession from my back pocket. I rubbed my finger over the worn coin, hoping that Con was here somewhere so I wouldn't have to trek across Detroit looking for the scamp. Smiling at the cop guarding the scene I stopped.

"What happened?" I looked the young cop up and down. He was in his dress uniform. I chuckled remembering my mother's face the first time I wore the_ "straight jacket"_ as I had called it. She was the picture of proud. Something I'd be if I ever saw Con wearing it.

"Guy was caught red-handed, stealing." I laughed. How were people so fucking stupid?

"Fucking idiot."

"Idiot with a gun, sir. Tried to shoot one of the cops arresting him but a guy got in the middle. He's not looking too good and traffic is backed up, bus can't get through." I shook my head. Odds were the kid had never seen anyone die, nor should he have to. I just hoped the guy wasn't a buddy of his. Softly I patted his shoulder.

Stepping through the tape I was taken aback by the state of the restaurant. Tables and chairs were upside down, windows shattered. I only hoped the owners had good insurance. The damage and this kid's family if heaven forbid he went back to them in a _box_.

Running into more and more cops I made the assumption I was close. Pulling back the decorative beading I stopped dead. For a moment I wished I had died. Blue adorned the floor in an ever growing puddle. My eyes widened "thirium".

"Yes, thirium. He's lost a lot, too much." The _'too much'_ was whispered almost as if it hurt him to say it. I excused the man, no boy. Suddenly there was three people in the room. Me, the guy whose blood was slowly turning my boots a shining sapphire and the kid who was perched over him, hands pressed somewhere on the unmoving figure's chest. My eyes instinctively wandered to the LED. It was cycling a rapid scarlet. Detective's intuition went flying out the window because I would've noticed the figure's _grey_ jacket that clung to his side. Instead I ventured closer, the smallest gasp slipped from between my lips.

"Con...? Connor?" A face swung to meet mine, tears running down her face as she tried to contain the bleeding bullet wound which coated her in an almost glowing blue.

"I-I need help, he's losing too much blood. P-please…. he-he_ saved my life_…" Blue eyes peered at me from beneath a well built wall of hair which did little to hide the fear in her face.

"Go. It's ok, I'll take care of him. He'll be fine. Spare the tears for the reunion later, darling." I turned back to the door.

"Chris! Chris, take care of this young woman. What's your name sweetheart?"

"Al-Alesha." He bottom lip quivered, just like Connor's did when he was upset. Chris wrapped his arm around the young girl's shoulder, directing her away from the terrifying scene. I tried to ignore the sound of department issued boots walking through puddles of blood as I focused on Connor.

I knelt down beside him. "Fuck, kid, what have you done this time?" I gently reached to pull his face to meet mine. That turned to be a mistake as the shock led him into a coughing fit. Waves of thirium pooled from his chest as a thin line leaked from his mouth.

"H-hank… Is tthe girlll s-safe?" I wanted to slap him. Slap him for being an idiot, for jumping in front of a bullet. It was sickening thought but the girl would've got hit in the vest and Connor would be fine.

"I-I kknow you ttoo well, v-vest would have ddone… nnothing. Zero probability of ssurvival. Too c-close." I only nodded finally understanding.I peeled his jacket from his skin. Fuck. There was a lot of blood here. I carefully removed his tie before ridding his chest of his whit- blue dress shirt. God Connor, what the fuck were you thinking.

"H-hank?" His voice shattering my heart as I thought of his, thumping in a valiant attempt to save his _dying_ body.

"Ttake me….. tto dinner bbefore uundressing me." He managed to chuckle before the gurgling noise started and the shaking came. Fuck. What was I meant to do? I wasn't a medic. Pressure? Pressure wasn't going to help the kid if he was choking on his own blood.

"Put him on his side." It was more for me to here rather than to bring any comfort to Con. I placed a hand underneath his back. God he was so cold, why was he so cold? Should I have taken his clothes? Placing my free hand on his chest I rolled him until blood began to spill from his mouth. Once I moved him back, I had outstretched a leg, lying Connor in the crook of my leg. Blue foam gathered in his mouth as he began choking again. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know there was blood in his _lungs_.

"Connor please, stay still and please God don't bite me." I sat him awkwardly against my leg as I tilted his head back, one hand on his forehead. I kept him in place by using my other leg. Taking my finger, I reached inside his mouth and bent it, scooping out a generous amount of thick foam. Eventually, his head just fell backward limply causing my finger to prod the roof of his mouth. Fuck.

"Con, son. You're ok. Now that's better." His body went slack apart from the ever present shake in his leg. Fuck. He wasn't breathing anymore. The lack of gasping that came from his mouth was alarming. Quickly I brought him back flat to the ground.

"Connor breathe, Goddamnit. You have to breathe, please." The rapid cycling of his LED seemed to slowly decrease.

"Connor, please. I'm begging you. The girl, you saved her but you need to save yourself. The medics will be here soon." I pressed the cool metal coin into his hand as he offered me a sweet smile.

"I-I I'm sorry hhank, I _ffailed_ y-you didn't I?" The rasping had returned but it was weaker now as I had to strain to hear him. The fact that he thought he had failed me was fucking absurd.

"No son, you could never fail me. You listen. You were right about everything, I blamed you for things that I did wrong. I told you that you could never be my son, I lied Con. In some ways I wanted you to be Cole just grown up but I don't. _You're Connor, my second son_." His brown eyes haunted me as he seemed to touch the part of my soul that I thought I had buried with Cole.

"I-I don't wwant tto die, I'm sso ss-scare-" His words trailed off as I knew I was losing him. Fuck the medics. They were taking my second son from me.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, my boy. I love you and when you get to heaven, you teach Cole to ride a bike and play fetch with Sumo. I love you Connor." I stroked his hair, cradling him in my arms the way I held Cole in his last moments of consciousness. At least Cole had been unconscious, Connor wasn't.

_"I-I love yy-you too, Dad."_

Finally my tears fell. A name I hadn't been called in years was the undoing of me. He was terrified, I could see it in his eyes. In so much ways he was like Cole, young and scared. I pulled my jacket higher around him. I was conflicted. Part of me wanted to let him go right there and have it over, the other part begged him to hold on just a little longer. God I was being selfish.

_Just let it end please, just take his pain. Give it to me, just give him his freedom, you know he's earned it._

I hadn't prayed in years, since the day I asked God to let my little boy live. It hit me as I looked around. I was sitting in a pool of blood, my son's blood.

"Connor? Let go, go to sleep. It's ok, the pain will be gone when you wake up. I love you so much." Something in the last words I spoke struck a chord as Connor's eyes finally fell shut and his LED whirred and faded into lifelessness. It took his heart a few seconds to realise he was gone. He died the second the bullet struck, his heart just didn't know when to give up.

I dragged him into my arms, rocking him as I planted the most gentle kisses into his hair. I wasn't about to taint the last moments I would ever have with him. Images flashed through my head, _his_ life flashed before my eyes. I composed myself as best as possible before I whispered the words into his matted hair:

_"Sleep well my son."_


End file.
